Ziva, Ziva, Ziva
by LittleGiblet
Summary: Ziva makes a faulty move during a routine capture. What does Gibbs have to say about that? Will contain spanking in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Untitled

Untitled

(Yeah, I'm that good)

This is on the short side.. let me know if you would like me to continue.

I was pleasantly surprised to see so many discipline NCIS fics here. I have really enjoyed reading them. PLEASE keep writing, you guys rock.

Her hair fell in front of her face, hiding the deep gash she had sustained when her left cheek had hit the ground. She fidgeted nervously, playing with her hands, and kicking her feet. She wondered if Gibbs was watching her through interrogation room window. He was wondering if she could sense his presence. He was trying to calm the storm brewing inside him before he entered that room to deal with the storm that was Ziva David.

If she had just waited for his order, instead of following her brave, but stupid instincts, she wouldn't have spent an hour in the emergency room getting her face stitched up, NCIS wouldn't owe the Farmers Market three hundred dollars in damaged fruit, and his heart would still have the ten years it lost when he had thought that that bullet was going to hit her.

Serenity wasn't coming, even in watching her squirm, and so he decided that there was no time like the present. In an instant, he was leaning over her, and Ziva felt very much like she was on the other end of an interrogation- and from what she had heard about Gibbs' methods of dealing with wayward agents- she would prefer losing a few fingernails. Or even fingers.

"I will pay for the fruit." It didn't hurt to try to soften Gibbs's fury a bit by taking some responsibility. "I should have surveyed my surroundings. I should have known not to jump that way-" Gibbs's cut her off with a curt nod. "I'm sure Director Shepherd will appreciate that." Ziva let her eyes fall back down to her hands.

"The fact of the matter is, Ziva, that you would not have had any reason to jump into a oversized barrel of strawberries had you not shot at the suspect against my orders." Defiance flashed in her eyes, "He was going to shoot you." Gibbs shook his head, "I was wearing a vest, Ziva, and we knew that he was a shaky shot. I would have had him down before he ever hit me."

Ziva stood up in protest, "You do not know that, I was not going to take that risk." He pushed her back down into her chair, "That was _not _your decision, Officer David; you take your cues from _me._" She threw her arms up in the air, "Even if it means watching you get hurt?" Gibbs ran his hand over his face, "That bullet almost hit _you._ You are not responsible for me, but I am responsible for you." He leaned in so that they were nose to nose, "You will follow my orders, or I will fire you." Ziva had no choice but to nod.

Gibbs pushed himself back from the table and folded his arms. "Stand up." Ziva rolled her eyes, she had hoped that today wouldn't be the day that she would get her first taste of Gibb's unconventional discipline, but she knew that there was no arguing with him. She stood up and folded her arms, mirroring his position. "What do you want me to do?" Her brown eyes met his, showing no sign of contrition.


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for the reviews. I would love any feedback that you guys have to offer on this chapter. I'm sorry if there are a lot of typos, I've gone through it a bunch of times and I just can't seem to catch them all.

Without further ado:

Gibbs paced in front of Ziva, trying to form the best plan of attack. Bending her over the table behind him and letting his belt do the talking was the easiest way out- it is the way he always handled Tony. But Tony always understood exactly why he was being punished, and Gibbs knew that he subconsciously liked the boundaries. He rarely felt the need to discipline Abby, and her guilty conscious usually pushed her to come and ask him to spank her in exchange for complete forgiveness. McGee had never done anything to warrant this kind of discipline, a few sharp words were enough to put him in his place.

Ziva had screwed up in the past, but Gibbs had been reluctant hold her to the same standards that he held the rest of his team to. Ziva hadn't been a permanent fixture, and he didn't feel secure enough in their bond as to force her into such a vulnerable position. He understood her need to remain strong and emotionless, just as she was doing at that very moment. The message she was trying to convey with her glare was ringing in, loud and clear: you will not hurt me.

Ziva still wasn't a permanent fixture per say, but it was difficult to imagine working without her, and her devotion to him had nearly cost her her life.

Gibbs turned and met her eyes, daring her to continue glaring at him. She gave a good fight, but eventually she gave in, and her eyes shot down to her shoes.

"What do you want me to do?" She asked again, letting him know that he hadn't broken her. "I don't like your tone, David." He said, pulling himself into a sitting position on the table. "I should not have shot at him," her arms were flailing about as she spoke, "is that what you wanted me to say?" "I would like you to mean it." Gibbs said quietly.

"Well, I cannot do that." Ziva began to pace now. "The suspect had a gun," she used her fingers to mime a gun, "A gun that was pointed at you," she stopped directly in front of Gibbs, "You saw him preparing to pull the trigger, yes?" "Yes." Gibbs answered- he had to applaud her efforts, her attempt at turning the tables was skillful.

"But, Officer Divad," he stood up and swung in front of her, effectively putting himself back in charge, "What you failed to notice, was that the suspect had been setting his finger on the trigger and then removing it for three minuets before you decided to shoot at him."

"I was not standing in view of his fingers the whole time, I moved into that position-" Ziva sputtered, "After I signaled you to move there, at which point I motioned for you to stay still." Gibbs finished for her.

Ziva tried to think quickly, Gibbs had her trapped. "I should have taken it slower, I agree. But I was protecting you. You could have been killed."

Some of the Gibbs' initial anger had dissipated, but it flared up again at that- Gibbs was through playing. "No. YOU could have been killed." He grabbed her chin roughly and forced her to look at him, "You have always been trigger-happy, Ziva, we have had that conversation before, but it crosses a whole new line when you carelessly put your own life in danger." Ziva tried to pull way from him; unable to take his intensity, but his grip was firm. "I would have had to of been a damn fool to of walked away today with a _scratch_, it was a routine capture." "Gibbs, I-" Ziva tried to interject, "No. You may be willing to throw yourself in the line of fire for _nothing_ but I am_ not_ willing to let you."

Gibbs words hit her hard. Sacrifice had been one of the key things she had been taught at Mossad. Gibbs watched her reaction closely; he knew then that he was getting through to her. "Do you realize what it would do to us if you were killed in the line of duty, especially for something as careless as that?" She pulled herself up onto the table, keeping her head down to avoid looking at Gibbs. _Us? _Ziva didn't allow herself to think about her place at NCIS, though her mind often wandered there, for fear of drawing the logical conclusion that she was merely the woman standing in Kate's place- only of professional worth, not personal. She told herself that that was okay. She was great at her job, and that was enough. She had been raised to think along those lines and it was a safety net.

When she finally raised her eyes to meet Gibbs, she saw the concern there, along with the anger and disappointment. Then the guilt hit. Not only had she botched an easy scene with her impulsiveness, but she had given Gibbs cause to worry about her safety when it was completely unnecessary.

"I am stupid." She didn't see Gibbs bite back a smile at her characteristic bluntness; she was too busy looking at the steely resolve in his eyes. "Are you ready to deal with this?" Ziva nodded meekly, "Yes. What do you want me to do?" Her earlier words held no defiance; she knew that she deserved whatever Gibbs had to dole out.

"Lay over the table." He said, as he started to undo his belt. Ziva's eyes remained on his chosen implement for a little bit too long, "What, Ziva?" He said with a touch of impatience, he was anxious to get it all over with. "Well, it is just that.."

"Spit it out." "I don't think that _that_" she gestured to the item in his hands, "will do."

Gibbs cocked his head in confusion. "It's just that, Gibbs, I've taken worse than that.. it may do the trim," "Trick." Gibbs almost chuckled. "-With the others, but.." Ziva's eyes wandered from the belt to a long metal rod that was propped up in the corner. It had fallen from the underside of a table when Dinozzo had jumped on it, and Gibbs kept forgetting to grab it on his way out- it seemed like a hazardess thing to have in an interrogation room.

"While I admire your courage, I am not using _that."_ Ziva started to protest, but Gibbs held up his hand. "You will not enjoy this, trust me."

Well, when he put it that way. Ziva felt twelve years old again as she bent over the table, shuddering as butterflies fluttered in her stomach. The first stroke of the belt came without warning, and it hurt more then Ziva had imagined it would. The second painted a red line just below the first. The third had her wondering how her slacks could provide so little protection. By the fifth, Ziva was playing the same game she always played; she bit her lip and tried to think of other subjects to avoid crying. Gibbs was not taking it easy on her; he kept on, keeping the belt constant. The pain was certainly not the worst thing she had ever felt, but it stung, and her eyes were watering. When Gibbs delivered the tenth stroke, she found it impossible to keep her emotions bottled; the guilt and the fire in her backside caused her to cry out. She was embarrassed by her inability to control herself, but it was a lost cause by that point.

"_Good girl."_ Gibbs thought. He gave her five more, bringing the total to fifteen. He quickly slipped his belt back on, before putting his arm out to catch Ziva as she tried to stand up.

"Thank you," She said; referring to the support he was offering her. The words had flown out of her mouth before she realized that it sounded as though she was thanking him for _spanking _her. Gibbs couldn't help but grin at that, "You are very welcome."

He wasn't sure what to do with her then. If Abby wasn't pouting, she usually threw her arms around him for comfort, but Ziva wasn't exactly the hugging sort. He gently turned her so that she was facing him head on. "You took that well." Ziva shook her head, unconvinced, "I am a mess." Gibbs straightened the lopsided color on her white button down shirt, brushing a thumb over a large red stain on her shoulder. "Strawberry juice," she explained sheepishly. Gibbs nodded and motioned for her to go, sensing her need to go and clean herself up.

She reached for the doorknob before she was stopped by his voice.

"You put yourself in danger like that again, and we will be right back here."

Ziva didn't doubt it.


End file.
